


Alive

by mushembra



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Anxiety, Bulimia, But grows to love Prompto, Childhood-Postgame, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ignis is a dick at first, Intolerance, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Promnis - Freeform, i love these two ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushembra/pseuds/mushembra
Summary: Prompto didn't want to live the life he was in. Alone and not good enough. Vile. Disgusting. He just wants something to live for, somewhere to belong, and it takes him a long time to overcome his inner demon to find the light.It certainly helps when the one who doubts him the most became his greatest source of support





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!!!: Ignis is pretty intolerant at the start of this, so skip over that if it triggers you. It obviously doesn't stay that way though
> 
> So I started writing this a few weeks ago after listening to that 1-800 song by Logic over and over again  
> But then I suffered my own blow when my brother committed suicide  
> So this fic was...a touchy subject for me to write with the depression aspect of it.  
> So the edits and hhow things are tied up aren't the best...sorry...I'm kinda happy with how it came out anyways  
> Hope ya'll enjoy

Not for the first time in his short childhood, Prompto came home to an empty and disorganized home. Of course he’d be alone today, a day where he held out hope maybe at least one of his parents would be there for him, there for the child who needed them so desperately. He really didn’t know why he had hoped and prayed to the Six that today would be different when the track record told the whole story. Day in and day out was always met with an empty home, deep disappointment, and a growing feeling of hollowness in the pit of his stomach. The aching loneliness not only hit him hard at home, but it bit like a knife at school, too. Always alone, always forgotten.

Today was one of those immensely humiliating days for Prompto, a day where the students took their quarterly fitness tests. He really didn’t see the point. A very exclusive few had any desire to join careers where they’d need to be in tip-top shape, but the school claims it 'helps build character'. Yeah, build character. All these tests did was give the other students a chance to laugh at his piss-poor performance. Running and push-ups and all of that other nonsense wasn’t the easiest thing for an overweight kid to do, after all. In fact, as it happened every other time he was subjected to this test, the young boy failed quite spectacularly. His peers mocked him, his teachers emphasized the importance of a healthier lifestyle. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from breaking down in tears in front of the entire gym. Pathetic. Worthless. It’s no wonder his parents denied his existence, even on the rare days they were actually home. He wouldn’t want him as a son, either.

Now in the safe solitude of his home, Prompto could hold on no longer. He dropped his bag unceremoniously and collapsed back against the front door before sinking to the floor, the sobs coming over him in unrelenting waves. It was never enough. He could never do anything good enough for people to overlook all of his flaws, and the list was long. No matter how kind natured he was, no matter how much he tried to joke and smile (though shy as he was), all he ever will be is the worthless fat kid who would burn out and amount to nothing. He wasn’t even sure what he aspired to be anymore. He used to have plans, dreams, but his unkind childhood stripped those away from him. He was left with nothing and no one. So, he turned to the only thing he knew would bring him some form of release and comfort; food.

Prompto staggered to his feet in a huff and stormed to the kitchen, raiding the pantry for anything he could get his hands on. Pastries, chips, any piece of junk he could get his pudgy little hands on. He scarfed the food down between his cries, and the more he ate, the more disgusting he felt. There was no relief, there was no filling the pain up with the food. Disgusting. Pitiful. All he felt was guilt and regret. Why was he like this? No one else was like this. Is this what it meant to be defective? Everyone else already saw it, but he still wished it weren’t true. Well, you can’t hide from the truth forever. It always has a way of finding you and rearing its ugly head.

Prompto let out an enraged cry and tossed an assortment of junk food packages at the wall, their contents spilling all over the floor. His stomach hurt, his heart hurt. So much hurt and it was never ending. He just wanted an end to this torment. No one would miss him if he were to simply vanish. His parents would be free, his classmates would forget after the initial taunts of ‘I knew he was a nutcase, good riddance’, and he would no longer have to burden anyone with his presence. It would be so easy. He’s thought of it before even at this tender young age. He had an assured way to seal his fate at his disposal sitting in the medicine cabinet.

One of Prompto’s parent’s feeble attempts at ‘fixing’ him was to take him to some shrink and have him medicated ‘for his own good’. His ever deepening depression and growing anxiety has been compounding his feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy, and the medication didn’t help. He was taken all of one time to see the doctor, and his dosages and prescription hadn’t been tweaked since. He hoped that if his parents saw he was being compliant, being a good boy and doing as he was told by taking it, maybe they’d finally take the chance to help him improve, see him as worth the time. They hadn’t. Those bottles were always so heavy in his hands, and today they may as well weigh a ton. The pills rattled in the bottles as they shook in his hands, face expressionless despite the tide of tears. It would be so easy. Just down them all, and before anyone knew he was gone, it would be too late. If he took enough, he wouldn’t be able to find the strength to get help. It could all end, all of this pain, that hollow ache. Just a few pills.

Prompto hastily filled a cup of water and unscrewed the caps, breaths coming erratically. It would be so fast. Without a second thought he could plunge himself into an oblivion for which he could not escape. Lost to the world, lost to it all. But this is where the boy’s courage always gave out. Because for however much pain he suffered, no matter how hollow and lost he felt, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to live and know happiness in life. He wanted those simple things other children his age took for granted; loving parents, friends, a day filled with smiles and laughter. He didn’t want the life he had now, and yet he could never put an end to it either.

Reality crashed down around Prompto suddenly, and he couldn’t help the scream that tore from his throat. He threw the bottles and cup at the wall, wrapping his short arms about his round frame the best he could as his resolve fell apart entirely. The  _ one  _ thing he could gift Eos and he couldn’t even do that. He really was no more than a worthless coward.

 

\----------------------

 

“Prompto, seriously? You act like you haven’t seen this part of the city or something.”

Prompto could hear the feigned impatience in his friend’s voice, and yet he was never so moved to take the blonde by the hand and haul him off. He had no idea how much it amused his friend to see him so enthusiastic and passionate about his photography. Insomnia was just such a beautiful city, and he’d never realized it before with eyes that were ever cast down. He’d never stopped to take stock and just take it in, let the life of the city beat through his own veins. Now he wanted to soak it all up, and make a running photo album of just about everything in his sights. He's already proudly filled up two scrapbooks and was working on his third. Finally something to take joy in and be proud of, something he was good at.

“Just a feeeew more, promise!”

Prompto flashed a bright smile to his friend, and he could tell from his expression that their little detour was doing no harm. He just never imagined he’d be standing where he was today, best buds with  _ the  _ Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince of Lucis. It had been an introduction many years in the making, and it started with the teen making some drastic changes in his life. He could see a familiar sort of sadness and pain (though not quite because of the same circumstances) in those tired blue eyes when they were but kids, and he couldn’t help but want to reach out and take Noctis by the hand and do whatever he could to ease that pain. But the worthless fat kid that he was would have been a humiliating friend for someone so distinguished to have. He would have been shrugged off like so many times before, he just knew it. So Prompto put his ass into gear, developing a daily training regimen of sorts, cutting back on the junk food, growing his confidence in social skills (even if that was still a work in progress). And it paid off in spades in the end.

“And, got it! Alright, I’m good.”

Prompto skipped over to the raven-haired teen, slipping his camera into his school bag. Noctis glanced at his phone, vibrating in his hand, and he caught that eye roll as his friend stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Yeah well we better hit it. Specs keeps blowing me up trying to get me home. He means well, but damn I wish he’d lay off on the studying sometimes. He’s got a new recipe for dinner he wants to try though, so at least there’s something to look forward to.”

“Oh…yeah, sounds good.”

Except that it didn’t sound good. Not today. Over his teen years, Prompto had started growing an aversion to food. Well, maybe that wasn’t the right way of putting it. He had an obsession with it, one that was not the least bit healthy and the exact opposite of the relationship he had with it as a kid. Everything he put into his body was carefully counted and measured. Every calorie was accounted for. And when food couldn’t be avoided and he'd already had his calorie fill for the day, there was at least an unpleasant plan B; purging. It’s what he usually wound up doing when he took meals with Noct at the Citadel. Now the food Ignis, his adviser, made was generally healthy and wouldn’t do him any harm, but he couldn’t help his habits and the anxiety taking in too many calories brought upon him. All he saw was a source of slowing him down. He’s come too far to slide back now. It was one of his many dark secrets he kept from his friend, and he intended it to stay that way.

It took some time to leave behind the busy streets of Insomnia to come upon the Citadel, a structure that was still all too imposing to Prompto. Few commoners walked these halls, and there were days when he wondered how the hell he got so lucky. Especially since it was no secret some of those who actually ‘belonged’ here made it apparent he wasn’t necessarily welcome, and that included the young man standing at the table in the dining room, laying out the food he had so lovingly prepared. The blonde nearly shrank under Ignis’ sharp gaze, that scrutiny there as it always was, as if he were appraising his true intentions and watching his every step. It was always so unnerving and made him feel very small.

“Ah, Noct. I had wondered if I’d need to send out a search party after you.”

“Jeez, why are you always so dramatic? We just took a little detour, no biggy.”

“Yes, well, you have much to do before the evening ends. There’s your school work to consider and some documents the King requested you look over. The political happenings of Lucis are something you need to start taking under advisement a little more seriously, as much as it bores you. You will, after all, take His Majesty’s place on the throne in time.”

“Oh boy, sounds like a real joy.”

Prompto stood back by the doorway as his friend plopped himself down into one of the dining chairs tiredly, though he did seem to perk up a little bit at the sight of the food. The thought of eating anything made him sick. He’d already taken in his allotted calories for the day, and he didn’t have the time to burn them off. His stomach protested from his lack of nourishment, and the sharp pain and dizziness nearly made him sway. But he knew he needed to be strong in the face of his weakness. He wouldn’t fall prey to such a disgusting vice again.

“Will your friend be joining us this evening?”

“Well duh, I didn’t bring him over just to kick him out. Prom?”

Prompto shook himself from his panicked thoughts, swallowing back the watering in his mouth. He was going to be sick. But he put on a smile regardless of the anxiety threatening to seize him, moving to sit at the table and stare down the offending meal on the plate before him.

“This uh…looks pretty good, Ignis. Where’d you learn to cook, anyway?”

“I took it upon myself as a service to His Highness. His well-being is my duty, and that extends to his physical health.”

The response was short and clipped, like it was some sort of inconvenience to even entertain Prompto with an answer. Why he bothered trying to interact with him, he had no clue. Maybe he wanted to be a more central part of Noctis’ life. Maybe he wanted to belong. He’s never belonged, and even with his new friend, there was still this sense of loneliness. Who was he kidding. They would be high school students for only a few more short semesters, and then what? Noctis will have to take his studies and education in taking his place as the King of Lucis after his father a little more seriously, and there was just no room in that world for a commoner. Lately, these days with his friend felt more and more like borrowed time until reality caught him in a snare once more.

It was being caught up in these thoughts and his need to put up appearances that left Prompto with an empty plate and having not the faintest idea when he actually ate the food before him. It was like he blacked out or something, his mind trying to push aside the thought of eating it. He didn’t want to taste it, didn’t want to take in the texture, didn’t want a damn thing to do with it. Losing himself while he ate was a good way to put it out of his mind, but he couldn’t do away with a full stomach afterwards. He pressed his hands to his abdomen, nails digging into his flesh through his shirt. Out. He wanted it out. He was sweating profusely, trembling, and hadn’t realized just how pale he had gone.

“Damn Specs, I don’t think Prompto liked it.”

“Noct, language.”

There was a chill to Ignis’ words, and mixed with how disgusting Prompto felt, he could feel the anxiety building to breaking point. He tried to keep from purging while in his friend’s home, but he needed it. He needed to get it out, and he needed it out now. He muttered a short apology and excused himself to the bathroom, practically knocking over his chair in his mad dash. He was so careless he even forgot to push the door all the way closed or turning on the faucet before crashing to his knees before the toilet, tossing up the lid. The blonde was sweating with anticipation, a burning rising to his throat that made him groan. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t stand on the ceremony of deliberating on his decision as he sometimes did. He pushed his hand into his mouth, scraping two spindly fingers at the back of his throat, scratching and tickling, and he gagged a few times rather roughly before finally, it all started coming back up.

It wasn’t pleasant and wasn’t resigned like they portray in the movies. Prompto’s body convulsed violently as he expelled the contents of his stomach, head throbbing in the strain. Six why did it have to be so loud? Loud and humiliating. Shameful. He was absolutely disgusting. Disgusting and not good enough. His peers saw it, Ignis saw it. And some day, Noctis would finally see it, too. That he just wasn’t worth the trouble. Broken sobs mixed with his vomiting, a horrible cacophony echoing in the tiled bathroom. The loneliness of his years crashed down around him, threatening to crush him entirely. Alone, how he lived and how he would die. Alone.

“Well, this is certainly a first. I never imagined my cooking would be so offensive.”

Prompto’s eyes blew wide open with shock at the words, and he turned his head to see Ignis standing in the doorway, a mix of being offended and confused plastered on his face. Well, as much as he could tell from a face that was always so neutral. He was horrified and berating himself for his carelessness. He’s never let his anxiety steer him away from his careful habits before a purge before. Why now? Why here? He glanced at the mess of sick in the toilet, chunks splattered against the rim. What the hell was he going to say about all of this? He wasn’t sure he could even find the energy to come up with an excuse.

“I…i-it wasn’t…it’s not…”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense. What exactly am I supposed to make of this, hm? No one forced you to eat it.”

Prompto shot the adviser a withering glare, setting his jaw as well as the preserving wall around himself. Oh, if only he knew.

“What would you know about it Ignis? What would you know about what someone is expected to do, what someone has to do just to get by, to be just a little more normal?”

Prompto could see the stern argument starting to brew up in those intense eyes, but as the walls started to go up, so did the pain and anger start to grow far too volatile to contain.

“You wouldn’t get it because you’re just so damn perfect. I mean just look at you! Adviser to the Prince, intelligent, well-mannered, just on this whole other plane us plebs could never match. You don’t have to work your ass off to be who you are. But me…every little decision I make can turn me into a failure. Everything I eat, every little minute I don’t study, every wrong thing said. I bet if you made a mistake people would just brush it off, forgive you. Me, not so much. I’ve suffered and suffered to get where I am now, and you know what? Still isn’t enough. I’m so damn sorry I don’t meet your standards, oh Great Ignis Scientia.”

Prompto needed to get out of here. He needed to run. He couldn’t meet Ignis’ eyes, and didn’t want to see the look of repulsion on his face, real or imaginary. He darted out of the bathroom, and with a hasty apology and goodbye to Noctis, he fled the Citadel, back to the loneliness he was familiar with that would forever be his home.

 

\---------------------  
  


 

Prompto was relapsing, and he knew it. He knew it and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. He gave it a fair shake at trying. Trying to eat when they settled down for meals, especially at camp, take up Iggy’s offer of protein bars when they were out on long hunting treks. But that insidious evil that was his illness started ruling his life all over again. He thought he was over this. He had hoped he was. The road to recovery had been a long and hard one. It started when he entered Crownsguard training. It was routine for trainees to receive a physical before starting the strenuous combat drills, and the doctor was alarmed by his condition. Before he could beg the man to keep the whole thing under wraps, he had found himself in a room with Noctis and Ignis, the doctor explaining to them the dire nature of his mental illness and how taxing training would be on him, body and mind. Ignis of course used this as a reason to try all that much harder to sway his Prince from taking his friend into the Crownsguard ranks, but Noctis was having none of it, and felt nothing but deep concern. He wanted to help Prompto, and help he did.

Prompto’s training started with nutrition education and body strengthening exercises, all under the close watch of Cor and Gladio. Cor was infinitely patient, and Gladio, though not quite understanding the nature of such an illness, was tough yet understanding. He learned Prompto’s limits, never pushed too hard, but was always trying to give him a challenge to overcome that would help take his mind off of his food obsession. And it actually helped. The young man became ever more determined to prove his worth. He wanted to serve at Noctis’ side. He wanted a purpose. He wanted to belong. He had to work harder than anyone else in training, but it all payed off when he graduated to be put in the Prince’s direct service. Which is why he was with him now, seeking a way to Altissia after the failed disaster that was the treaty signing.

Prompto sat with the bowl of gumbo in his lap, letting the campfire conversations roll right over him. He knew he should eat it. He hadn’t eaten since dinner last night, but he just couldn’t stomach the thought of putting the food in his mouth. It made him gag, made hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Six he wanted to run. Wanted to just run away and not deal with this mess in his head. But he knew it was starting to affect his performance in battle, and before long, he knew a lecture was going to come.

“Prom? Prompto?”

Prompto snapped from his thoughts suddenly, looking up to see three very concerned faces staring at him. So much for hoping they hadn’t noticed his slide back. He offered a shaky smile before lifting a small spoonful to his mouth, and he wanted to spit it out right then and there. He moved the food around in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him. He heard faint murmuring from his companions, but who spoke and what was said was lost on him. The dread was his sole focal point, and it was unrelenting. He hadn’t even realized the offending bowl was taken from his hands, but his eyes opened at the feeling of a paper cloth being held to his mouth, and Ignis was there, offering an out with kind eyes. He was ashamed to do it, but Prompto all too quickly spit the food out into the napkin, which was tossed into the fire.

“I-Iggy, I—”

“Would you mind taking a stroll with me, Prompto? Noct and Gladio can take care of the dishes this evening.”

The invitation wasn’t mandatory like it used to be. Ignis hadn’t always been so understanding and patient with Prompto’s condition. In fact, he could vividly remember how the adviser saw it as an inconvenience. Well, he saw Noct’s friend as an inconvenience, and tallied his illness as another reason why they shouldn’t associate with one another. But with the Prince’s stubborn insistence, the adviser decided he had to nag him every step of the way, poking with questions that were raw and inappropriate. They had a lot of one sided talks, and they were absolutely unbearable. Time smoothed out the edges. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but Ignis started to become sincere in his talks, learning more about his illness, what comforted and encouraged him and what triggered him. He was cautious with his heart at first, but his newfound friend proved to be a sturdy presence in even his darkest days. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that he was the one to come to him now. He was, after all, the least impulse and most level-headed of the group.

“I uh…sure. Why not?”

Prompto feigned his usual peppy glow, but he knew he wasn’t fooling the adviser. He couldn’t help his habits, trying to hide his pain from all of those around him. He sometimes forgot he didn’t have to hide from them like he used to hide from his parents, from a world that could care less. He hopped to his feet, feeling the world spin for a moment before stabilizing. Ignis motioned for the blonde to join, leading him away from the camp and the prying ears of the others. It would make facing this a little easier to not have to air everything out in front of all three of them. The two of them walked in silence for a few moments, the tension mounting until it cracked right through the walls Prompto had unintentionally put back up around himself. This was too much.

Prompto was startled out of his thoughts by a hand taking him firmly by his shoulder, halting his mindless walk forward. He couldn’t help but gasp, turning wild eyes to Ignis, whose eyes were gentle and filled with such concern.

“How long have you been struggling to eat now? I know it’s been more than a few days.”

Prompto could feel his ears burning, and he couldn’t help but avert his eyes. Right to it then, huh? The adviser was always quite direct, but the tenderness of his voice let him know that there was no argument or ill feelings about his relapse, even if he felt such shame over the whole thing. It almost made dealing with this worse. They should feel just as ashamed of him as he felt of himself. He didn't deserve their care and concern.

“I…I don’t know…couple of weeks maybe? Been this kinda slowly creeping thing. I didn’t…want to bother you guys. Or worry you. Or…I dunno…”

“Prompto, I hate to think you felt you needed to suffer this in silence.”

Prompto watched as Ignis took a seat on a nearby rock outcropping, and he was given an invitation to join. And he did, sitting beside the adviser, fidgeting with the nervous energy coursing through him. He couldn’t sit still. He wanted to bolt. He wanted to escape this, but he knew there was no escape. You couldn’t run away from mental illness, no matter how hard you tried. But there was Ignis, sturdy and strong, his hand running up and down the blonde’s back. It brought him some grounding comfort, but the shame was threatening to push him under.

"I thought…I was over this. We don’t… _ Noct  _ doesn’t need this! With everything else going on…Insomnia, the King.”

“True as it may be, you are also just as important. You and your illness. Prompto, allow me to be frank with you.”

Suddenly, Prompto’s hands were held between Ignis’, the gloves quite warm from the heat radiating from the hands beneath them. So warm, so comforting, but the contact left him blushing, eyes downcast.

“You are a part of this brotherhood and just as important as any of the rest of us. When you’re in pain, so are we. We don’t want you to suffer in silence. We need you at your best. And if you need help getting there, all you need to do is ask.”

Prompto grit his teeth, trying to keep the swelling of emotions at bay. But he could feel his control slipping, his hands shaking in the ones that held them so firmly. He didn’t want to be like this anymore. He’s come so far to prove himself, to become worthy in the eyes of those who would never have given him a chance. He didn’t want it to slip away. He choked on a sob, leaning his head against the adviser’s chest, and to his surprise, Ignis pulled him close in a tight embrace. And he swore he heard a shuddering breath against his hair, the older man’s own control on the rocks. Well that was new.

“Prompto, you are…far too dear to me to lose this way. I may not understand the entirety of it, but know this; I will ever patiently stand by your side and help you through this. I may not always have had love for you, but I do now. You are worth all of the time I can give. You are worth saving.”

That admission was quite unexpected. Prompto knew he cared, but this seemed more than friendly concern. Which was confirmed when he looked into those intense eyes, filled with such emotion, and emotion he's never seen there before. And before he knew it, their lips met. Who moved first he couldn't say, but they both melted into the kiss, holding each other so tightly; Prompto holding Ignis like his only lifeline, Ignis holding Prompto like he may simply fad away if he were to let go. It as so dizzying and warm, and so wonderful. It was almost enough to take the pain out of his stomach, though not quite.

Prompto found himself pulling away first, groaning at the way his empty stomach felt like it was tearing itself apart. And Ignis blessedly held him steady as his body swayed, weak and tired from the malnutrition and exertion.

"Perhaps you would agree to a small salad. You can help me prepare it to your liking. Nothing goes in that you don't want. How does that sound?"

Prompto looked up to that caring face, and he managed a small but genuine smile, offering a small nod in agreement.

"Yeah...I think I can do that."

  
  
\-----------------------  
  
  


“You haven’t been eating, have you?”

Prompto blinked tiredly, shaking the bone-deep exhaustion from his mind. It had been a long day. Well, if you could call it day at any point in this endless night. But as far as ‘days’ these days went, it was a very long and tiring one. He’d gotten a call from Cindy that one of the hunters investigating a report of a trapped citizen just outside Hammerhead never reported back, and he went into his own investigation just to find the hunter torn limb from limb by a throng of imps. There was no sign of the citizen, and he had already chalked it up to a false report. The Hunters and Kingsglaive had spent many recent months evacuating people to the only remaining safe locations in Lucis, and he found it hard to believe someone would get themselves caught up out there on their own. The whole thing was a mess all around, and the weathered man couldn’t help but feel the weight of another death burden him down. Just seemed like for every person they saved, so many more died at the hands of the deamons.

Prompto glanced now at the hand on his wrist, then he allowed himself to look up to Ignis, who’s face held concern and contemplation. He really wished he wouldn’t worry so much. It was bad for his health.

“You’ve lost considerable weight from last I saw you.”

“Yeah well…”

Prompto sighed softly, leaning his head against the adviser’s shoulder. He could fall asleep right there between the mix of fatigue and hunger. Of course Ignis would notice, and of course it would flare up that old worry. That worry that the blonde was starving himself by way of punishment or to ‘improve performance’, or to just see himself as good enough to be a member of the Crownsguard. It has been years since his illness played any part in his life. He knew the importance of keeping his body nourished and fueled for battle, especially in the ruined world they lived in today. But the last few months have been hard. He didn't see Ignis as much as he'd like to since he didn't travel much due to his blindness. The battles were unending, the work to save the defenseless was never done. He tried so very hard to remain strong, he really did.

But for all of the healing and progress Prompto had made, it was finally undone by the darkness that descended over Lucis, by the loss of Noctis to the Crystal, to the chaos and death that became such a regular mainstay in life these days. It was all so hopeless, no matter how optimistic he tried to be. And he could tell it hurt Ignis terribly. If it was one thing he always dreaded, it was seeing Prompto relapse after coming so far.

“Prompto, you will be of no good to anyone running on empty. You know that I fear you collapsing in the field from hunger, especially with your tendency of venturing off solo when Gladio isn’t about. You need to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah well there isn’t a whole lot to go around, and I’m used to it. I…I’d rather see some poor scared kid get my food than be so…selfish…they don’t deserve to know what that pain feels like.”

Selfish. Disgusting. Worthless. The words of his past echoed in Prompto’s head. He just couldn’t shake them of late. Such an insidious parasite, and it wasn’t lost on the man so close to him. Ignis shifted and wrapped his arms around him, and he melted into those warm arms, against a body that was so grounding and strong. In all of this madness, he was the single light and focus in the young man’s life. Many ‘nights’ were spent in those very arms, grieving, falling apart to be put back together by the one soul who remembered to think of him when he didn’t even think of himself. With Ignis he learned forgiveness, worth, and now, love. Most days he didn’t think he deserved it, but days like these he was ever so grateful.

“Prompto, I want you to listen to me.”

Prompto allowed slender fingers to tilt his face up, eyes meeting that beautiful, scarred face. He could feel his heart clench at the sadness and concern there. If it was one thing his beloved worried for most in this world despite the darkness, it was for Prompto’s well-being and health, and he knew it. He knew Ignis worried that he would just start withering away again, shrink down into nothing. He hadn’t dropped so low in weight in some time, and now that attention was brought to it, he could feel how his clothes didn’t fit quite right. But what problem was being a little lighter? He could run faster, jump higher, make himself a smaller target. Weren’t those all good things? No, they weren’t. It was rationalizing a relapse in his illness and he knew it.

“We all need to pull together, not fracture or sacrifice ourselves needlessly. We all need each other if we are to make it through until Noctis returns to us. You have been instrumental in helping the people of Lucis to safety, reuniting their families, giving them hope when it has weened in the hearts of many. We need you Prompto. I…need you…”

Prompto gasped softly in surprise, eyes stinging with tears from the sudden swell of emotion. For Ignis to say something like this so openly... He was always a man of action more than words, and his affections were always displayed in gentle touches, how he’d hold the blonde when he felt like his very core would fall to pieces, how he’d cook him his favorite meal (now that he was growing more confident in doing so again). The nature of their feelings went unsaid, but they were always understood. But this…

“Iggy…”

Prompto let his fingers touch his lover’s lips gently, and to his shock and horror he could feel them quivering ever so slightly.

“We have already lost Noctis, and could lose countless others before this is all over. I can’t bear the thought of having the bury you. I don’t want you to slip through my grasp. I can’t watch you wither away Prompto.”

Prompto couldn’t help the sudden assault of emotions that brought the tears forth. And he cursed his tendency to be such a loud and ugly crier, because he couldn’t quite stifle the sob that ripped itself from behind the hand clamped to his mouth. Ignis made a soft, fond yet sad sound, and his arms wrapped more tightly around the blonde. He took to clinging to the adviser, finally letting out a scream he felt like he's been holding in for far too long, though making sure it wasn’t too loud. He tried to be mindful of Ignis’ sensitive ears, but an encouraging pat on his back let him know it was ok to let loose. And he did, giving a second, much louder and primal scream. So much pain, frustration, and grief in that cry. He screamed until his throat felt raw and his lungs burned for oxygen, and when he was spent, he felt better. He felt a weight come off of him, leaving him to a softer crying, weak and vulnerable yet safe in those warm arms.

“There, there. You don’t have to sacrifice body and soul for everyone else. You’re just as important, dear Prompto. And you don’t have to fight alone, either. You know that. I may not be as capable as I used to be, but I’ve improved greatly with the Marshal’s help. If Gladio is busy, then you may call on me as you need. I’d much rather you have someone, even myself, with you in the field rather than alone. We can’t get through this alone.”

“Y-Yeah…you’re right. You’re always right Iggy.”

Prompto pressed his face against his beloved’s neck, taking in his scent. He always smelled so good, smelled like love and home. He could feel his body relaxing, the exhaustion taking a hold of him. He could barely keep his eyes open. Six, when was the last time he slept?

“Hey Iggy? Will you lay down with me?”

“Of course. Whatever it is you wish, love. Although, I’d be happier if you ate before you got some rest.”

Prompto wanted to protest, but his stomach sent a sharp wave of pain and hunger through him, making him groan with discomfort.

“Well…might be able to sleep better if I had something in my stomach anyways. Will you...maybe we can have some veggie stew?”

A hum of approval was all he needed as an answer.

 

\------------------

 

Waking to the rising sun was something Prompto was still getting used to, but every morning the sun greeted him through the open window was such a blessing. He rolled onto his side, facing the window as his eyes fluttered open, and the warmth and light left him smiling, if a little sadly.

“Thanks Noct…”

Prompto couldn’t help but thank Noctis for everything he’s done each time he woke up. His sacrifice made a future for Eos possible, and that meant a future for him as well. There were days when the grief would still move him to tears, but knowing Noct, he’d just playfully shove him and turn his attention to some amazing photo op. He wouldn’t want the grief to hold him back. He’d want Prompto to live, and live he did. Funny, he could remember so clearly a time when living was not something he wanted, because there was nothing to live for. He wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth the oxygen or space in the world. He was an infinitesimal speck in the large scheme of the world, and what would it matter if he just passed on? No one would miss him. No one would remember. Just another death in the reality of life. It was night and day from feeling so empty and hollow.

Prompto slowly got himself out of bed, stretching and enjoying the slow ease of getting into the day. It was a luxury he honestly missed. The ten years of darkness were hectic and afforded no time for easy going. He honestly thought he’d never be able to savor these small joys again. You never realize just what you value until it’s gone, he supposed. Sure he felt a little sluggish and lazy these days, but he felt like he earned it. Hell, they all did. Especially a certain someone he knew was in the kitchen, the aroma of a hearty breakfast wafting into the bedroom. A small smile tugged to his lips as he stepped out into the main living space of their small apartment, eyes falling on Ignis tending to the food he was diligently cooking at the stove.

Prompto had to wonder how he got so lucky sometimes. When he met Ignis all those years ago, he certainly never thought they’d be together like this, so domestic and happy. He had been nothing but a thorn in the man’s side, an undo influence on a young Prince Noctis, and he honestly had been prepared to be ejected outside of the circle of their life. But they came to trust one another, befriend one another, and in time, love one another. Ignis had become his light, his reason to live, his reason to care for himself and love himself enough to want to find his own happiness. It’s something Prompto never considered before. His own happiness was so far out of reach that frankly he didn’t care to try searching for it. Seems that it found him when he wasn’t looking.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Prompto was quite proud of the little snorting chuckle that he elicited from Ignis, and he stepped forward to wrap his arms around his beloved, who leaned back into the embrace.

“After your little trek out to Hammerhead I thought you might enjoy something a little heartier. Eggs, diced potatoes, bacon, and some cheese to tie it all together. Not what I’d normally make but I know you, and you likely ate rather lightly while away.”

“Mmm, sounds AMAzing! You sure know how to treat a guy!”

“Come now, it’s nothing special.”

“Come on Iggy, you sell yourself too short.”

Prompto nuzzled his face against his lover’s neck, brimming with love and warmth. He could hear Ignis clicking off the stove, and he turned around to hold him in return. He’s never felt so alive in his entire life, so full of warmth and light and life, as he feels here in this man’s arms. He never thought his suffering would end, he never thought it would all be worth the work and struggling to recover, to better himself. But in the end, he was blessed with such amazing memories, friends, and a man who loved him. He couldn't ask for more.

"Hey Ignis...thank you. For everything."

If he were to die right here, right now, Prompto would be perfectly alright with that. But for now, he was just happy to be alive.


End file.
